


Going Away To College

by backitup_baby



Series: I Can Be Your Hero, Baby [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backitup_baby/pseuds/backitup_baby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Fuck Yeah! Quinn & Santana gift exchange on Tumblr!</p><p>Prompt: "Quinntana relationship- gamer/nerd Santana, popular Quinn, anything to do with that- them getting together. Preferably not in High School, but with them older, in college or adults whatever."</p><p>--</p><p>Quinn and Santana meet by chance in Applied Statistics, when they're partnered together for their final project. Santana teaches Quinn all about what she's been missing in life and popular culture while Quinn tries to hide her newfound interests from her judgmental swim team roommates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Away To College

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CorvusCorvidae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvusCorvidae/gifts).



Quinn Fabray doesn’t have time for this. 

She rolls her eyes at nothing and everything, staring blankly at her Applied Statistics professor as he explains how they’ll be working in pairs to apply all of the exciting statistical knowledge they’ve learned over the quarter in their final project. Quinn writes down in her notebook, ‘design study … gather participants … analyze and present,’ then sighs and raises her hand after Professor Schuester adds that he’ll be picking their partners for them.

“Some of us have a lot of extracurricular commitments. Important commitments like swimming, in which we represent the school, increase brand exposure, and create goodwill,” she says, once he calls on her. She straightens in her seat and smiles. “I don’t see why we can’t just run analysis on existing data and do an in-class presentation on the results.” 

Professor Schuester isn’t swayed, sadly. Quinn makes a mental note to work on her persuasive speaking skills, especially when he announces that she’s assigned to work with Santana Lopez.

Quinn frowns and turns around in her seat to look at her new Statistics partner. Santana is slouched in the back of the classroom; it looks like she’s doodling instead of actually paying attention to the professor. She’s got dark eyeliner on today and is wearing a pink plaid shirt over a black t-shirt with a yellow Batman logo. Quinn knows that much from the trailer; Christian Bale is a _hottie_. (Not that she's seen the movies.) But she also knows that if she has to spend even just a _second_ with Santana Lopez, she’s going to catch nerd cooties so hard, the swim team will disown her.

They’re supposed to spend the last five to ten minutes of class talking to their partners about their project, so Quinn takes her time packing up her bag before she goes over to Santana’s table. Without even waiting for an introduction, she says, “We’ll have to do all of our work in your dorm room, wherever you live.”

Santana raises an eyebrow and smirks in response. “Never thought it’d be that easy to get someone like Quinn Fabray back to my apartment.”

Oh. Quinn completely forgot that in addition to being the campus’ premier lady geek, she’s also like, a lesbian. Quinn doesn’t really care about that, though. It’s the rest of it that’s bothering her. 

“Don’t even,” Quinn says, rolling her eyes. “Just…” she grabs Santana’s notebook without asking and makes a face at all the doodles. She can’t make out what any of them actually are, though if she had to guess, she’d probably assume something to do with comic books. Picking up a pen, she writes down her phone number and a “QF” in the upper right corner. “Text me your address and we’ll figure out a time to work.”

“I was thinking we could do a correlational study. Ask people who their favorite superheroes are and then see if we can draw any correlations between their grade, major, extracurriculars,” Santana says, very seriously.

Quinn furrows her brow slightly, trying to parse everything that Santana just said, before shaking her head. “You’re pathetic. We need a better idea than that.”

“I don’t see _you_ coming up with any.” Santana has a smug look on her face that Quinn already knows she doesn’t like.

“Fine. What about…” Quinn drums the pen on the tabletop as she thinks. “We could do a study on what makes people run faster, nonreligious or religious music. I know that whenever _I’m_ working out–”

“That assumes that people are okay with being subjected to religious music and since I for one am _not_ –” 

“I _knew_ you were a heathen,” Quinn says, eyes narrowed, right before Professor Schuester announces that class is dismissed. She stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and hisses, “We’ll continue this later.”

–

‘Later’ means that weekend; Quinn comes over to Santana’s apartment with her Statistics book and some other ideas after one of her meets because it’s the only time both of them had free. 

Though she knows that she’s doing the smart thing, going over to Santana’s instead of running the risk of being seen on campus or anywhere in their small college town with her loser partner, she’s also worried that going to where Santana actually _lives_ will increase the risk of nerd cooties. It’s the only option she has, though, and her place is definitely out of the question.

“I have a project,” she says as an explanation to her roommates, just as she’s about to head out the door.

“Don’t be such a loser, Fabray,” Puck says, from where he and Finn are sitting, shirtless, on the couch playing Xbox. Puck swims the 400, 800, and 1500-meter freestyle and is one of the best in their conference. Finn, on the other hand, swims short distance freestyle, backstroke, and IM - not very well, but Quinn admires his persistent enthusiasm despite the fact that he’s the slowest one on the team despite having long limbs that should, in theory, give him a natural advantage over most of his competitors.

“I’m not,” Quinn retorts, easily rising to the bait. She knows her teammates are just giving her shit for no reason, but she’s never been able to resist an opportunity to assert her superiority. “ _Sorry_ if I’m the only one who cares about grades in this house.”

Brittany walks in, a bag of chips in her hand, still in her swimsuit and sweatpants from the meet earlier. She’s a diver, and a surprisingly good one at that, even though she’s taller than most. “It’s not my fault that all of the Art professors grade on pass/fail and I have a natural talent so I don’t need to study.”

Quinn just rolls her eyes at all of them and leaves. Santana doesn’t live too far away, so Quinn takes her bike with her and is at Santana’s within 10 minutes.

“Hi! I’m Rachel. You’re Quinn, I know. I’m Santana’s roommate and –” The dark-haired girl is interrupted by Santana herself, who’s just shown up at the door.

“Ignore my roommate. She has a tendency to ramble.”

Quinn steps in, taking in the posters that are covering practically every inch of wallspace in the living room: Phantom of the Opera, Batman: The Dark Knight, Barbra Streisand, Iron Man, and a bunch of other ones whose captions Quinn can’t quite make out. “It’s like I just crossed over the threshold in to a land in which everyone’s an unpopular freak,” she says, then looks evenly at Santana. “Where do you want to work?” 

Santana looks over at Rachel, who shrugs and beams brightly at the both of them. It’s weird. Quinn feels very uncomfortable. “Wherever. We can do it in here?” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Quinn’s glad for that; she didn’t want to go into Santana’s room if she could help it. She sets her bag down on the couch and rummages for her notebook before sitting down herself. Rachel goes to busy herself in the kitchen while Santana disappears to her room, then reappears carrying a laptop. “I was thinking that we could also maybe do a study on like… we’ll show people pictures of other people and ask them who they think is more attractive, and the pictures are either like, them dressed up and fancy or slouchy and dirty. Like, either what you’re wearing,” Quinn says, gesturing to Santana, “Or like what I’m wearing.”

Santana just laughs, unfazed. “You’re crazy,” she says, but there’s a look on her face that makes Quinn think that the idea has _some_ merit. “We could maybe do something similar, though. Like, I worked retail over the summer, and we were supposed to greet people faster if they looked like they were gonna drop a lot of dough, you know?” 

Quinn, who has never held a job in her whole life, just nods, waiting for her to continue.

“So like, we could go to the mall and pick out a bunch of stores. And we could go to them on one day when we’re dressed all bougie and shit and time how long it takes for us to be greeted, and then go on another day when we’re dressed the opposite,” Santana says, glancing up to make eye contact with Quinn.

“We would have to make sure that the stores were the same amount of busy,” Quinn says almost immediately, continuing Santana’s thoughts out loud. “Maybe we would need to make sure we go on the same day of the week, at the same time, too, if the conditions are the same.”

Santana smiles, slowly. “Exactly. We can use chi-squared, right?”

“Right.” Quinn’s writing quickly, trying to get all of this down. She’s actually excited about this idea because she loves shopping and it ties in to her business major. It doesn’t even occur to her that she’s actually agreeing with Santana Lopez about something.

They spend the next hour or so planning out when they’re both available to do their study. It’s difficult because Quinn’s schedule is pretty hectic; she wasn’t bullshitting when she’d told their professor that she was running low on free time. Weeknights are out thanks to 3 hour practices every day and it’s hard to find Saturdays where she doesn’t have meets. Finally, they agree that their only real option is to do it on Sunday mornings after Quinn convinces Santana she needs to get up prior to 11am for the sake of their grades.

Santana gets up to go to the bathroom after they’re done, so Quinn glances around at their living room again, feeling free now to take in all of the ridiculous posters now that their owners are away. She’s staring at a triangle with a vertical line and a circle inside it, wondering what the hell it means, when Santana comes back. 

“Legit, right? I totally custom ordered that shit from Redbubble,” she says proudly, gesturing to the symbol like it’s a picture of her firstborn.

Quinn frowns a bit, knowing that she’s expected to understand what Santana is talking about. “You know I don’t _actually_ like all the dorky loser stuff that you and Rachel like, right?” 

“Yes, but –” Santana opens and closes her mouth, clearly at a loss for words. “Even if you aren’t into all of that,” she says, gesturing around the whole room, “you have to have at least read or seen the Harry Potter stuff.”

There’s silence.

“You _have to_ ,” Santana repeats, before turning around and leaving the room.

Quinn’s phone buzzes just then and she picks it up. It’s from Brittany – _were ordering dominos! get back soon before puck and finn eat it all!_ – and she’s in the middle of tapping out a reply when Santana comes back, three books in her hands.

“No, no,” Quinn says immediately, dropping her phone and holding her hands out to ward Santana away. “I can’t read those.”

“Quinn _fucking_ Fabray,” Santana says, her voice deadly serious. “These books changed my life. I don’t understand how you grew up into a functional _young adult_ – I assume you’re functional, at least, even if you’re a snotty bitch – without being exposed to Harry Potter.” She shoves the books into Quinn’s hands, ignoring the way Quinn’s eyes go wide in horror. “Read these god damn books, or I will make sure we fail our final project.”

Quinn laughs, then winces when she hears how it sounds pathetic and scared. “You wouldn’t.”

Santana smirks again, devilishly, and something twists in Quinn’s stomach – probably hunger pangs, since Brittany did say they got Domino’s. “Better believe I will. Read the fucking books.”

–

Quinn smuggles the Harry Potter books into her house late at night, when everyone else is sleeping. A small part of her knows she’s being ridiculous, since they’re just _books_ and Quinn’s popular enough to be able to do whatever she wants without being questioned. At the same time, though, she doesn’t think she’d be able to handle the hard time Puck and Finn would give her for reading geek shit. 

If she’s being truly honest with herself, though, she also has some residual issues from her childhood that she’s dealing with, too.

Quinn knows that she had a happy childhood. Her parents went to every swim meet that she and her older sister Victoria were in and they never wanted for much. There was one exception, though, always: nothing Harry Potter, no witches or wizards, no superheroes and super villains, nothing that could be considered to be the idle playthings of Satan.

It wasn’t really a big deal, growing up. Her friends throughout middle and high school didn’t like that stuff anyway and made it very clear that anyone who _did_ was to be shunned like a leper. (Whatever a leper was. The Bible was never really clear.) 

Suffice it to say, though, that up until now, Quinn’s never felt like she’s missed anything by not reading or watching any of that stuff. She has her own room, so she makes sure the door is locked before she takes out the first book – something about a sorcerer’s stone. 

–

Quinn plans it all out. They have three weeks to get all of the data they need. If all goes to plan, they’ll only need two weeks, but Quinn’s adamant that she and Santana have a back up plan just in case one of the weeks doesn’t work out. Then they should only need a week to crunch the numbers. 

It’s only when she and Santana are meeting at the Auntie Anne’s Pretzels at the mall that Quinn realizes the flaw in her plan: people will see her out in public with Santana. 

She’s unfortunately had to spend enough time with Santana to know that the other girl isn’t really the stereotypical nerd; she’s not at all socially awkward, and Quinn has to admit that she’s pretty. But Santana’s self-confidence means that she really doesn’t care what people think of her, and she’ll do anything she wants. Quinn’s pretty sure that she saw Santana wielding a sword in a LARP tournament in the quad just a week or so ago. Quinn, on the other hand, is only just starting to realize how much she cares about what other people think. 

“Maybe we should rethink our store assignments,” she says, glancing around to see if anyone she knows is at the mall today. Today’s their ‘bougie day’; both of them are wearing dress pants, button-down shirts, and v-neck sweaters, and Quinn made sure that Santana’s hair was neat and that the dark eyeliner was toned _way_ down. She’s pretty sure that no one will recognize Santana with just a glance; Quinn isn’t even sure if she recognizes her all that easily. But she doesn’t want to take any risks.

Santana shakes her head vigorously and a few strands of hair fall out of place. Quinn automatically reaches a hand out to move them back into place. “Fuck, no. I spent _too_ long on that chart, and we agreed that it was important to make sure that we both go to each store twice, once for each persona, to make sure the data’s legit. This schedule was like, my baby for the last few weeks. We’re _not_ editing it now.”

“Fine,” Quinn says, and wonders why she’s smiling. “Let’s go, then. Remember to start your timer as soon as you walk through the door, then stop it at the first word.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out the swim timers she borrowed from her coach, then slips her own into her pocket before handing the other to Santana.

“Duh.” Santana turns as though to go to her first mark, Sephora, before looking over her shoulder at Quinn. “Where are you in the books?”

“ _Shh_ ,” Quinn hisses, glancing around again before looking back at Santana. “I, um. I’m on… Prisoner of Azkaban… already.”

Santana smiles then, brightly, and Quinn bites her lip to stop herself from smiling back. “Favorite character?”

“Probably Hermione. She’s a badass bitch.”

“Damn straight,” Santana agrees with a grin, looking into Quinn’s eyes for a moment before looking away. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Quinn says, blinking a bit before turning to leave in the opposite direction for American Eagle. “See you.”

–

A month and a half later, their final project is done and, after narrowly dodging her roommates’ insistence that she go out to the bar with them to celebrate their win over their school’s conference rivals, Quinn bikes over to Santana and Rachel’s. 

They’re set to watch the first three Harry Potter movies on a _Saturday night_ , and Quinn swears under her breath the whole time, wondering when she caught nerd cooties and why they had to hit her so hard _already_. She wonders if it’s too late to turn back now. 

“I could’ve been out at a bar tonight, you know,” she says, tipsily, midway through Chamber of Secrets. She’s sitting on one side of Santana, since while she’s grown to kind of tolerate her old class partner, she still can’t stand Rachel. “Probably would’ve hooked up with Finn again, too.”

Santana looks sharply over at her; Rachel does, too, but Quinn does her best to tune her out. “You’re dating Finn Hudson?”

“Not really,” Quinn says, making a face. “I dated Puck, though. _That_ was a mistake. Finn and I just… we’re roommates, and we’re really good friends, and sometimes we have sex. It’s not a big deal.”

“Finn’s an idiot.” Santana’s frowning, which actually kind of pisses Quinn off. It’s not even that she doesn’t agree with Santana, because Finn really isn’t the brightest. But if anyone has a right to call Finn an idiot, it’s Quinn. 

“How do you even know Finn?” Quinn snaps, turning on the couch to face Santana. Behind her, Rachel’s face is worried, but Quinn couldn’t care less.

“Douchebag was in my Psych 101 class,” Santana says, dismissively. “He’s like, super offensive about women and stuff.”

Quinn bites her lip. “Okay. I’ll give you that. He can be pretty offensive, though nowhere near as bad as Puck can be.”

“He’s really cute, though,” Rachel says quietly, chiming in, though after the look Quinn gives her, she closes her mouth instead of saying anything else.

“Besides, freshman year was like, two years ago. People change,” Quinn finishes. “He’s a lot better now. A little more educated.”

Santana’s silent for a moment. “I guess people do change,” she says finally, then adds in a deadpan tone: “I mean, I never thought big shot swimmer Quinn Fabray would ever be over here watching Harry Potter movies with us _losers_.”

“Shut up,” Quinn says quickly, ducking her head. She can hear Rachel and Santana both start to laugh and it only serves to make Quinn blush. “Stop making a big deal about it.”

“Actually, Quinn, you were the one making a big deal about it just a few minutes ago,” Rachel says logically, which sets her and Santana off again. And because she knows it’s true, it doesn’t take long for Quinn to join in.

–

Christmas break comes a week later and, after somehow tracking Quinn down in the bathroom of the psychology building for a covert drop-off, Santana makes sure Quinn doesn’t go home without Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. “Check your email later, too,” she says, the familiar smirk firmly planted on her face before she ducks out and leaves Quinn alone.

That night, Quinn opens up her email and squints a bit, trying to make out what exactly Santana sent her. “‘You have been invited to play World of Warcraft,’” she whispers before looking around quickly, just to make sure any of her roommates aren’t hiding in her room within earshot. “Shit. No. I can’t.”

She shuts her computer, willing herself to delete the email when she goes back online later, and makes sure her suitcases are packed before her parents come to pick her up the next morning. 

A few days later, though, when she’s at home, Quinn navigates to the email again. She sees Santana online on Google Chat and decides to take the opportunity to make her explain herself.

_What the hell is this ‘World of Warcraft’ thing you sent me?_

**shit did u finally just open it? I sent that shit to you like two weeks ago.**

**it’s an awesome game.**

**u can try it for free first**

_I’m not going to play your stupid game. Besides, playing at war isn’t something that sounds fun at all._

**come on it’s not like call of duty or something**

_What?_

**how do you even live with these many gaps of knowledge**

_Something is off about your grammar, I swear, but I can’t figure out what it is._

**you need to relax more**

_I do not._

**do too**

_Screw you, Lopez._

**you wish, Fabray**

**play the fucking game**

**i’m gonna email you every day til you do**

_Stop stalking me. It’s flattering how obsessed you are, but I’m just not that into that._

**again**

**you wish Fabray**

**get your ass on WoW**

_my ass is wow?_

**world of fucking warcraft Fabray**

_I need to go. Goodbye._

**YOU DO NOT**

**STOP AVOIDING YOUR DESTINY!!1**

_Who needs to relax more?_

**touché**

_I really do have to go. Goodbye._

**hahahaha**

Quinn shuts her computer and, going over to the mirror, takes a deep breath, wondering why her face is so flushed. All throughout dinner with her parents, Victoria, and her sister’s boyfriend, she finds herself thinking about the most random things: the way Santana’s smiles always start on the left side of her mouth, how her dark eyeshadow and eyeliner never smudge, the way that whenever she’s around Santana, she feels so much more at ease than she does anywhere else. She even can’t help but miss the way Rachel sings around the apartment, even when it’s just singing about her day (“Got an A on my essay on the _biooooooo_ graphy of Fosse and the professor said he loved my turn of phrase” frequently gets stuck in Quinn’s head, much to her chagrin). 

It’s not that she dislikes her roommates. They’ve all been friends for two and a half years, ever since pre-season for swimming, and their bond was cemented during the freshman disorientation party when Quinn puked onto Puck’s shoes and he cleaned it up with Finn’s shirt. And she knows that no matter what, they’d have her back. She just doesn’t think she can deal with them taking the shit out of her for being friends with such a loser. And she _really_ doesn’t want the anonymous trolls on their college’s online burn book to start talking about how far she’s fallen.

She excuses herself after dinner and goes into her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She takes Half-Blood Prince out of her nightstand drawer and sits down on her bed, opening the book to her last-read place. Suddenly, she hears a knock on the door and she frantically shoves the book under her blanket before going to open it. 

It’s Victoria. “Why are you being such a lame-ass, hiding in your room?”

Quinn rolls her eyes, noting with some disgust that her sister sounds a lot like Puck. “I just felt like it.” 

“Yeah? What’re you doing in here?” Victoria’s smile is a lot like her own, Quinn knows; innocent, yet conniving. Quinn, who’s never had to hide anything from her family before, glances at her bed before looking back at Victoria, and it’s enough to send her sister racing to her bed. She finds the book easily, holding it above her head like a prize. “ _Harry Potter_?” she asks, her smile a lot more like a sneer now.

“Be quiet,” Quinn is hissing, her hands balled into fists. “Don’t– I don’t want them to know. Please.” She knows that as a book about magic and wizardry, Harry Potter is number one on their parents’ list of Things From Satan. Victoria doesn’t share their views, necessarily, but Quinn doesn’t want to run the risk of her sister turning in the book as another showcase in how Victoria’s the better Fabray daughter. Or worse, ripping it up or something; then what would Santana say?

“Why are you even _reading_ this? I didn’t think you were into this kind of trash,” Victoria says sweetly, obviously amused by Quinn’s desperation. 

Quinn reaches for the book but Victoria, thanks to her taller height, holds it easily out of reach. “Please,” she says, glancing at the doorway to make sure their parents aren’t coming to investigate. “Give it back. Someone… gave it to me. Lent it to me to read. It’s important. Please, give it back.”

Victoria raises her eyebrows, looking somehow even more amused than before. “Are you dating, little sister?”

“ _No_ ,” Quinn snaps immediately, eyes wide at the thought. Of course she’s not dating a _girl_ – not that her sister would know. 

“It sounds like you _like_ this person,” Victoria continues, despite Quinn’s protesting. “Is that why you’re reading such a nerdy book?” She laughs, then, and tosses it to Quinn, who cradles it to her chest almost instinctively before she drops it on her bed and turns to face her sister again.

“Just get out,” Quinn says, her voice low and dangerous. “Leave me alone.”

Luckily for her, Victoria’s walking out already, clearly bored now that she’s given up toying with Quinn over her secret. “Bye, loser.”

Quinn shuts the door again and leans against it, breathing hard. Of course she’s not dating Santana. Of _course_ she isn’t. She takes her phone out of her pocket and, after a moment’s staring at the screen, wondering what is even going on, she texts a message.

_I hate my sister._

**i know what u should do**

**PLAY WOW AND GET OUT ALL THAT AGGRESSION BY KILLING ORCS WITH ME**

Even when texting, Santana has a penchant for sending multiple messages, it seems. Quinn rolls her eyes.

_This really is not the time._

**yes it is! download the game, im totally on it right now, and we can chat about it while u play**

Quinn turns to make sure her door is locked again, biting her lip, before walking over to her bed and getting her computer. 

_Fine. I’ll be on soon._

**HAHAHAHAHA YES**

–

Quinn knows things will be different once she gets back to campus. Swim season really starts in earnest then, so she’s got two-a-day practices and more meets to deal with. Her classes are harder this quarter, too; her least favorite is Accounting, but if she’s being honest with herself, she thinks that they all suck because Santana isn’t in any of them.

They don’t see each other until the second week of school, though they still chat online. Despite Santana’s persuasiveness, Quinn hasn’t played WoW since coming back to campus; it’s too risky, she thinks, to play it at the swim house, and with her schoolwork and swimming she doesn’t have time. And neither of them are happy about the fact that it’s the fourth week of the quarter and Quinn hasn’t come over yet.

Quinn wants to. She did have a few free nights, ones she spent watching Puck and Finn play Grand Theft Auto while she and Brittany did each other’s nails and gossiped about Brittany’s long list of potential romantic partners, and it would have been easy to make an excuse and leave. If Quinn’s being 100% honest with herself, though, she’s terrified. 

She has endless paranoid fantasies that one of her roommates, or even one of her teammates, will follow her over to Santana’s. They’ll spy through the window or something, watching how comfortable Quinn, Santana, and Rachel are with each other, all piled onto the couch as they watch another one of Santana’s superhero movies or cartoons or, if Quinn and Santana are in a good mood, even one of Rachel’s Broadway musical bootlegs. The way how Quinn remembers that Santana’s hand would rest on her knee, sometimes, and Quinn would lean her head onto Santana’s shoulder. The way that Quinn and Santana would gang up and make fun of Rachel’s penchant for ordering her side of the pizza without cheese, just tomato sauce and mushrooms, and how Rachel would stomp her foot on the ground while insisting that veganism is an entirely valid dietary option.

Quinn misses Santana, a lot. And she doesn’t know what to do.

The _really_ scary thing, though, is that the longer she puts off seeing them, the more daring Santana gets in public. Or maybe Santana was always daring, but just respected Quinn’s wishes for privacy back in fall quarter. But now she’s really pulling out all the stops.

Halfway through the quarter, it happens. Quinn and her roommates are in the middle of walking to the cafeteria from the natatorium when Finn spots a few people in snowsuits, rolling around on the quad with wooden swords in their hands. “Holy shit,” he says, elbowing Puck in the side and pointing. “Look at them.”

“It’s like watching the mating habits of an obscure animal species,” Brittany says, wisely, tilting her head as she watches them.

Suddenly, a dark-haired figure with a huge sword stands up, waving the sword around, screaming, “WINTER IS COMING!” Of course, that’s when she catches sight of the four of them walking past. “HEY, FABRAY!” Santana yells, waving her sword around to make a figure eight pattern with the point. “WE TOTALLY HAVE ROOM. YOU WANNA BE A LANNISTER OR A STARK?”

Quinn doesn’t understood a word that Santana said, but she’s pretty sure that her face is on fire enough to burn all the snow in a fifty-foot radius. “Let’s just go,” she says, looking away and walking quickly. “Come on.”

The laughter doesn’t die down until half an hour after they’d sat down at their table with their trays of food. Quinn sits there for a while, with her head low, staring fixedly at her tray, before finally looking up at Puck and Finn with narrowed eyes. “I don’t understand what’s the difference between your stupid Xbox games and what they’re doing.”

“You serious, Q?” Puck says, and Quinn winces when she sees that he’s clearly still chewing on his burger as he talks to her. “They’re making total idiots of themselves in _public_. Plus Game of Thrones is for nerds.”

“I didn’t know that was Game of Thrones,” Quinn says immediately, glancing around at everyone at the table to see if anyone else did.

Puck realizes his mistake quickly, backtracking obviously. “I just like, saw something about it online, you know? Like on Facebook and shit.”

“What’s it about?” Quinn asks shrewdly, her gaze now fixed on Puck.

“Fuck if I know,” Puck says, before taking a long drink of his Coke - an obvious avoidance tactic if Quinn’s ever seen one. Luckily for her, she knows how to distract him back onto topic.

“Who’s the hottest chick in the series?”

“Dude, this girl who like, birthed dragons from her vag, total hott–” Puck stops mid-word, looking at all of them. Brittany’s smirking like she’s finally understanding why Quinn’s been giving him the 3rd degree over dinner.

“You watch Game of Thrones. So what? We can all _like_ whatever we want to like,” Quinn says, dramatically, with sweeping hand gestures. She’s fucking tired of having to hide that she likes these new things, she’s realizing now. Tired of hiding the fact that she’s _friends_ with Santana Lopez and that she’s actually really cool. “I like Harry Potter. And this weird musical called Spring Awakening, even if it _was_ horribly scandalous.”

There’s silence at the table before Brittany finally speaks up. “It’s okay, Quinn,” she says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I like translating books from Dutch to Japanese.”

Quinn bites her lip, trying not to smile. “Thank you, Brittany. That’s very… surprising. But thank you. I appreciate the gesture.” And after that, the four of them somehow manage to finish dinner, even if it is a bit awkward, and Puck gives Quinn a hug before she goes up to her room for the night.

Once alone, Quinn calls Santana on the phone. “Was that Game of Thrones LARPing I saw?” she asks, as an ice breaker.

Santana laughs. “Shit, Fabray, you’re a quick learner.”

“Yeah, well, turns out my asshole roommate watches that shit on the down low.”

Quinn hears Santana laugh again, low into the phone, and wonders why her face is flushing again. “Yeah? Did you tell them you have a dirty little secret too?”

“I might have,” Quinn admits, bringing a hand up to her face. Just as she suspects, it’s hot. “Can we… are you free this weekend?”

“I’m free tonight,” Santana replies immediately, and Quinn imagines the smirk that must be settling onto the other girl’s face right about now. “You wanna come over? Rachel’s staying out late at rehearsals.”

Quinn realizes then that she and Santana have never actually been alone together; doing their project at the mall doesn’t count. She swallows and wonders why her throat’s gone dry. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

She just remembers to grab Santana’s Harry Potter books before she goes out to her car; there’s too much snow for biking, now. Santana answers the door with a grin, dressed in pajamas, and Quinn looks her up and down, thinking that this is another first. She feels suddenly overdressed in her jeans and swimming sweater. “Hey, Lopez,” she says, and Santana’s grin widens.

“Hey yourself, Fabray. Come in, it’s fucking cold outside.” 

Quinn leads the way to the couch, relaxing now that she’s back in the familiar space, and sits down, pulling the Harry Potter books out of her backpack. “I forgot to give these to you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Santana takes the books and sets them aside, looking intently at Quinn.

“Yeah,” Quinn agrees, nodding a little and gesturing with her hand nervously as she talks. “Um, I’m sorry about that. Like, I just had a lot of homework–”

“Quinn,” Santana says, firmly, reaching out and moving Quinn’s hand down. “Stop the bullshit excuses.” Her hand is still on Quinn’s. It feels nice; comfortable, even. 

Quinn swallows hard again, looking at Santana. “I got freaked out.”

Santana laughs, quietly, though she doesn’t seem mad or anything. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Who–”

“Oh, fuck, you have to be _kidding_ me, Fabray. How much shit do you _not_ know?”

Quinn’s blushing again as she glances down, away from Santana’s gaze. “Lucky I have you to educate me, right?” 

“Among other things,” Santana says softly, and when Quinn looks up, she’s got one eyebrow raised and a knowing expression on her face. And somehow, Quinn actually knows what she’s talking about, this time. She surprises herself by leaning forward and kissing Santana, softly at first before Santana starts to kiss back. Quinn can feel Santana’s fingers in her hair, tightening a little, and she gasps into Santana’s mouth as they continue. 

Quinn feels like she’s on fire. She moves a hand onto Santana’s waist, squeezing, her thumb tracing the line of her hipbone, and Santana pulls her closer. “Shit,” she says, breaking the kiss to take a deep breath. Santana just laughs again, the one that Quinn is just now realizing makes her crazy, before leaning in for another kiss. 

“You wanna stay over?” Santana asks in a low murmur, smirking slightly into Quinn’s eyes. “I got a Captain America book for you to read, you’re gonna love it. It has that Winter Soldier guy in it, too, from the movie.”

“That’s all we’re going to do?” Quinn asks, smirking back.

“Scout’s honor,” Santana says, holding her hands up. “Promise I won’t make… more than one move on you.”

Quinn quickly goes over her schedule for the next morning; she actually has a break from early practices on Thursdays, so it’s fine. “I just have a class at 10,” she says, and Santana grins. “Yes.”

–

Rachel isn’t surprised at all when they tell her. Quinn’s kind of disappointed by that, but Rachel interrupts her protests easily. “Come on, Quinn. You two would always sit next to me–”

“That’s because I hate you, Berry.”

“You do not. And Santana told me that you _loved_ Spring Awakening, which–”

“Way to _exaggerate_ , Santana,” Quinn says, hitting her on the shoulder.

“You _sing it in the shower_ , Quinn,” Santana retorts with a laugh.

“Fuck you both,” Quinn says, crossing her arms.

“See, now I remember again that she’s a swimmer,” Rachel says to Santana, as an aside.

“You know what they say about swimmers having stamina? They–”

“Don’t,” Quinn warns, trying to launch herself onto Santana to stop her from saying anything more. She puts a hand up to try and cover her mouth, but Santana just bites it and smirks once Quinn withdraws her hand with a wince.

“God, I was just going to say that I went to your last meet and you totally smoked everyone in the 200 breast. Also, may I ask, how did you not know that you totally leaned towards the ladies with that as your favorite stroke?”

–

The real shock is that Puck and Finn get along instantly with Santana, despite Quinn’s worrying. It turns out that Santana has two older brothers who were athletes, too, so she knows exactly how to handle their special brand of jackassery. She gets along with Brittany, too, and it isn’t long until Santana and Rachel are coming over to their swim house to hang out. Somehow, Santana got them all addicted to Once Upon A Time, even the boys, and now they all watch.

“You must have like, some sort of charmspeak, I swear to God,” Quinn says one night, tucked into Santana’s shoulder. She’s started reading the Percy Jackson books; apparently they’re a favorite of Brittany’s too. Quinn’s always surprised by how much she and her roommates were hiding from each other, before.

“I just like quality shit, Fabray,” Santana says, a smug smile on her face. “I can’t wait until Spring quarter. Quidditch club is going to start up again, and we’re totally looking for more players.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Quinn says, glancing around the room to make sure that everyone’s in agreement with her. Except something weird’s happening: Puck, Finn, and Brittany are all nodding, smiles on their faces. Even weirder, Puck has his hand on Rachel’s ass. “Come on. We’re not all going to play Quiddich. We don’t even have _brooms_. Especially not brooms that fly.”

“You hold them between your legs,” Santana says. “Totally legit. You can be Seeker.”

“Fine,” Quinn says, because she really did always imagine herself as one. “Sounds kind of lame, looking for a Snitch that doesn’t even fly.”

–

Santana’s sleeping over that night. They usually spend a half an hour reading, so after they change into their ‘pajamas’ (Santana’s in her underwear, while Quinn has on a tank top, too) Quinn pulls out a wrapped present from her dresser drawer and hands it to Santana. “Got you something,” she says, trying to mask the nerves.

“Yeah? Is it that vibrator I told you about?” Santana asks cheekily as she unwraps the gift.

“ _Santana Lopez_ , no,” Quinn says, sitting down on the bed and watching Santana continue.

It’s a book, or rather, more specifically, a volume of manga – Nana by Ai Yazawa. “I read about it online, and I thought it might be something you’d like.”

Santana shoves the wrapping paper off of the bed once she’s done, holding the manga almost reverently. “Quinn Fabray got me a nerd present,” she says, looking over at her girlfriend. “This is the best day.”

“Shut up,” Quinn says, hitting her with a pillow in order to hide her embarrassment. “I just… wanted to do something for you, since you’ve given me so much.”

“Don’t get all cheesy on me,” Santana says, putting the book aside before leaning in to kiss Quinn. 

“I’m not cheesy,” Quinn replies stubbornly, in between kisses, and lets her hands wander. She loves that Santana sleeps without a shirt on. “I just… love you, or whatever,” she says quickly, pressing her lips against Santana’s again.

Santana grins against Quinn’s lips. “Love you too, cheeseball. The future seeker of Gryffindor. The last daughter of the House of Lannister. Not the girl Gotham needs, but the girl Gotham–”

“Shut _up_ , Lopez,” Quinn says, pushing Santana onto her back and moving on top. 

“Gladly,” Santana says, and leans up to kiss Quinn once more.


End file.
